The Letter
by SkeletonTree
Summary: Walburga discovers Sirius has been sorted into Gryffindor.


_I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters created by J.K Rowling_.

So, I love Walburga Black, I think she's a fantastic character and she doesn't get enough attention in my opinion. So, here's a fic just for her!

Please R&R :]

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><p>6th September, 1971<p>

_Aunt Walburga,_

_I write on somewhat reluctant terms to inform you of events here at Hogwarts. I know that Sirius will not write to you out of cowardice so I will do it for him. _

_There must have been some kind of mistake by the Sorting Hat; it cannot possibly be trusted to make an informed decision on one's personality traits. The truth is Sirius has been sorted into Gryffindor. I know this will bear terribly on you and I will do my best to keep a watchful eye on him. It might also interest you to know that he has taken a liking to the Potter boy, James who was also sorted into Gryffindor. _

_Yours,_

_Narcissa Black._

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><p>She sat in distilled silence at her desk, the parchment twitching in her hand as the news sunk in. The clock ticked dully on the wall on the other side of the room, hanging splendidly against lavish wallpaper. Cold, narrow eyes darted across Narcissa's letter once again. She found no sweetness within it. Aside from the appalling content, her niece mirrored her mother's mockery. Anger seared quickly and the parchment crunched in her hand. Walburga would soon unleash fury and dragon fire on her eldest son but for now she was content to mull furiously. She threw aside the letter and the envelope it had arrived in; making the delicate owl perched on the end of her desk ruffle its feathers anxiously. She did not seem to notice, sinking back in her chair and deploring a sigh.<p>

Walburga Black was a woman who held up appearances to the fullest, even to Cygnus and Druella, who were the closest to her. She did not want to allow them the pleasure of feeling superior despite their sonless marriage. Druella was a slight woman, exceptionally beautiful with long blonde locks that made an entire ballroom stop to admire. Their daughters carried the fine-tuned Rosier features, particularly Narcissa, who was the spitting image of Druella. However, it was Sirius and Regulus who would carry on the noble name of Black whereas they would be married off, Cygnus would take the name to his grave. Walburga felt the pressure of producing fine, pure-blooded men.

Now bringing herself to raise her eyes from the desk, she caught sight of her father's portrait hanging sternly on the wall. His cruel eyes provided little comfort, folding his arms over his broad chest. She had not read the letter aloud and therefore he could not know the reason for her outburst. However, his grunt commanded her attention and his eyebrow rose expectantly. Walburga gave him a reluctant glance, standing up and turning her back to him, to the window. She respected her father deeply but she did not have to share everything with his portrait.

"Don't look at me like that, Father." She muttered, more to herself. She wouldn't admit to being unnerved by him, even in a frame.

The day was grey, light drizzle spat at the windows of Grimmauld Place and the ignorant masses dashed to and fro across the street. Walburga pressed a cold, bony hand to the window frame and drummed he nails against the glass irritably. She had known for a long time that Sirius was… different. She had hoped that the rebellious phase would pass when he started Hogwarts and integrated with other children of the same blood rank but this was an unexpected turn of events to say the least. _Gryffindor_, she thanked silently that it wasn't Hufflepuff but still, the thought of the Heir, her son in Gryffindor and not Slytherin sent angry spasms down her spine. Every generation of Black had been sorted into Slytherin with the expection of the unmentionable family members who had been obliterated from the wall and everyone's recognition. She swore that she would never have such disappointments in her line. She had prayed for obedient offspring. Children that would sit still; behave and follow the rules. Since the age of five Sirius had defied her. Reassuring herself for years that he was just frustrated at being cooped up inside the house and unable to explore the wider world. She was certain that he would grow out of it and into the well groomed wizard she had been so meticulous to bring up. Orion said that she was too strict with him and that his rebellion was only against her rather than the family. But now, with this news, Walburga was no longer sure her eldest son was going to change for the better.

"Where did I go wrong with you?" She said aloud, bitterly.

Orion would have to know, but he was away on business at the Ministry and she was alone with Regulus, who was studying downstairs. She would leave the study eventually and Regulus would feel the brunt of her anger. He was a good boy but he had too much love for his brother and that weakened him. Their relationship was unnaturally close, especially as they were so different. Sirius was strong minded, passionate and angered easily. Regulus was mild, soft spoken and thoughtful. Sirius was strong and Regulus was weak. It came to her then that her youngest son had not heard the news. She'd find comfort and triumph in telling the boy. Revel in the disbelief and shock on his face as he discovered his big brother has become the biggest disappointment since Cedrella running off with that _mudblood. _She would plant the seed of doubt in Regulus and distance them, better that Sirius was at Hogwarts this year. If all hope failed with him, she would still have Regulus. He was obedient and was still young enough to be under her unforgiving influence. Of course, Sirius had to be dealt with. Gryffindor, how ridiculous! The people he'd mix with in that House made her skin crawl. His befriending Dorea's son, James, was poorly judged. Everyone knew that the Potters however pure, mixed with lesser folk. Blood traitors, the lot of them and Sirius was now caught up in their pathetic free-for-all.

She hardly noticed that she was now pacing the study. Prowling her imaginary prey as her skirts bellowed around her ankles. She could not be stilled; restless, relentless, hands balled into fists as she paused in her pace. She could hear the portrait behind mutter but she was too worked up, too furious to take notice. A brief moment of panic rattled her as she thought of the whispers from the wizarding community. The Sorting had taken place in front of the entire student body. Parents would be informed of this outrageous calamity. The Averys, Crabbes, Malfoys and Lestranges amongst others would soon know. She'd be laughed at; the Black family would be in a state of utter embarrassment. How could she allow such humiliation?

Sitting back at her desk, she pulled a quill from the ink pot savagely and reached for a piece of fresh parchment. Intending to send out a short, urgent message to her husband at the Ministry, she tapped at the ink pot several times. The correct words could not be produced. She could not bring herself to write the appalling news. _No, she thought as she dipped the quill in ink again, _I will write a simple note requesting that he should return home at the earliest possible moment. _It would be better to keep this quiet for as long as possible.___ Her hand shook as she signed off, dropping the quill back into the pot and folding the letter over. The top drawer housed the envelopes and she opened it viciously, almost pulling it from the desk itself. She rummaged impatiently until she retrieved the correct sized envelope and slid the note into it. The owl, who had remained unnoticed suddenly reared its head at her. Bright, large eyes watched on as the rustling of parchment could only mean a service for it. It moved forward on Walburga's command and she tied the envelope to its leg. Narcissa's owl cocked its head questionably as Walburga instructed it to the attention of her husband only. When it did not move, she gave in to impatience yet again and thumped the desk with her fist.

"Go! What are you waiting for?" She screamed irately. The owl ruffled its feathers, and took off rather quickly, out of the window.

Foreboding silence followed.


End file.
